


Rules of Love OR How to Snag a Ferret in Eight Easy Steps

by the_rainbow_jen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Prompt Fic, Sexual Situations, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-13
Updated: 2006-09-13
Packaged: 2019-10-04 00:01:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17293829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_rainbow_jen/pseuds/the_rainbow_jen
Summary: Written for the Livejournal queenathon challenge in 2006. Prompt: Play The Game by Queen





	Rules of Love OR How to Snag a Ferret in Eight Easy Steps

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by LJ's a-bees-buzz, kazfeist and katshakespeare (Hey, it's my first Fic-a-Thon!) So all the credit for quality belongs to these lovely ladies.
> 
> This has not been updated since it's initial posting in 2006, this is primarily for archival purposes (since I lost a bunch of fic due to not backing it up in enough places, sigh).

 

_Open up your mind and let me step inside_  
_Rest your weary head and let your heart decide_  
_It's so easy when you know the rules_  
_It's so easy all you have to do_  
_Is fall in love_  
_Play the game_  
_Everybody play the game of love_  
_Ooh yeah_  
  
_When you're feeling down and your resistance is low_  
_Light another cigarette and let yourself go_  
_This is your life_  
_Don't play hard to get_  
_It's a free world_  
_All you have to do is fall in love_  
_Play the game - yeah_  
_Everybody play the game of love_  
_Ooh yeah_  
  
_My game of love has just begun_  
_Love runs from my head down to my toes_  
_My love is pumping through my veins_  
_Play the game_  
_Driving me insane_  
_Come come come come come play the game_  
_Play the game play the game play the game_  
  
_Play the game_  
_Everybody play the game of love_  
_This is your life - don't play hard to get_  
_It's a free free world_  
_All you have to do is fall in love_  
_Play the game_  
_Yeah play the game of love_  
_Your life - don't play hard to get_  
_It's a free free world_  
_All you have to do is fall in love_  
_Play the game yeah everybody play the game of love_

_~ **Play the Game,** Queen_

**Rule 1: There are lines in friendship you shouldn’t cross unless you are prepared to never go back.**

 

She watched him walk away, the stiff hunching of his shoulders telling her that any comfort he needed shouldn’t come from her. The ache in her chest intensified and she had to blink hard to maintain her impassive expression. It would be a necessary skill in the coming weeks, she knew, as everyone they knew came to her to get her side of the story. But what could she say? For once, the horrible, outlandish story that Ron told would be one hundred percent true.

_“Hermione, what happened? You and Ron were so perfect for each other. You waited so long for him. Why is he saying you dumped him?_

 

_“Because I did.”_

 

_**Because I thought I knew what I wanted. I thought I wanted to get married and have lots of babies and take care of my family. I thought I wanted to do that with Ron. I thought there was more to him than a stubborn sense of loyalty, a love of Quidditch and a wizard’s chess playing ability. I thought I could live with that. I thought I could eventually change that. I was wrong. And I lost my best friend over it.** _

Harry, amazingly enough, understood. She wasn’t sure how, since she could barely explain it to herself, but somehow he got it. He didn’t hate her for breaking his best friend’s heart and putting him in the middle. If anything, he pitied her. But then, there had never been anyone for him but Ginny and he knew it. Besides, he knew Ron would get over it in time, but whatever illusions he had had about having all the people he cared about as family were a thing of the past.

**Rule 2: Live in the present, look to the future, forget the past.**

 

She refused to look behind her. She could feel the mask of her own dignity cracking and her eyes blurred. She hadn’t expected to see him there, which was very shortsighted of her. Harry was very careful to not invite the both of them to the same functions. It was difficult for all involved, but considering the tension that erupted every time they were in the same room together; it was worth the cost of halving their social lives in order to maintain peace. This time, however, was different. She wouldn’t have missed Harry and Ginny’s engagement party for anything, not even a disgruntled ex.

She never considered that he would have moved on, that she would be the disgruntled one. She assumed he was still nursing the wounds, just like she was. To see him being so solicitous to Luna Lovegood, of all people, was an unexpected lance through the festering pain of a dismissed future. She had caught his eye and using their old methods of silent communication, they had ducked outside.

_What on earth are you doing with her, Ron? You have nothing in common. She’s Loony Lovegood. She can’t challenge you. What makes you think it will work?_

_Because she can do the one thing you never could, Hermione. She believes in me, no matter what. If I end up as a janitor in the Ministry, or the Minister himself, she will always support me. And she thinks I am perfect the way I am._

Hermione choked back a sob. His calm, quiet words not only bespoke a newfound maturity, but also a sense of closure. They were over. Never to be again. She didn’t quite understand why she was so upset. It wasn’t as if they were ever going to get back together. And she had moved on. She had been dating Neville for several weeks, but they both knew that it wouldn’t last. Seeing Ron, though, made her feel as though she was walking a tightrope without a net. It was entirely new and she didn’t like the feeling at all.

As she approached her flat, she could make out Neville’s tall, gangly figure. Blinking back tears, she saw a nervous and solemn look on his face. So this was it. He was breaking up with her. Her heart wasn’t broken, not really. It was just a convenience for them both. So why did she feel so hopeless?

**Rule 3: Decide what you want. Go after it. Don’t compromise.**

She slammed the door in his face and slowly backed away. Unable to breathe during his pedantic explanation, she dragged several deep breaths into his lungs. At least now she knew why their six month relationship wouldn’t be progressing to a seventh. God, she wanted to tear those little glasses off his face and stomp them to dust. She had thought them so charming, so mature, when they first started dating. He approached things the same way she did; he had logically explained all his reasons why they should be a couple. She had been impressed, until she realized that he itemized everything in his life. She was just one more thing on his list. And as soon as she had become available from her breakup with Neville he had systematically wooed her.

“Insufferable prat” She muttered. She wished he would knock on the door again so she could tell him where to shove his neatly organized little life. But he was too well mannered, too collected, to respond to her display of temper. All the things she had been so fascinated by and approved of in him were the things she now hated. His passion only extended to organizing his life and career. Never to her. His kisses were even less stirring than Neville’s. He hadn’t even tried to coax her into bed, a welcome change from Ron’s begging and Neville’s hesitancy, but what had appeared to be a moral stance really was a prudish one, based on rules and utter lack of passion, rather than restraint.

She should have known better. Not only was he a Weasley, (they had a history of letting her down), he was Percy Weasley, the most insufferable of them all. Just because they seemed to want the same things didn’t make them the same person. She wanted to change the world, to see her passion for justice reap a harvest of peace. He wanted order out of the chaos of the past, and he would sacrifice anything to appease the gods of his idolatry.

She had made a mistake, that’s all. She had assumed that because he was Ron’s brother he would have that essence of Ron, the affability and the passion he had so often displayed when they had fought, but he so ruthlessly quashed his temper, it was like he only had two dimensions, when she expected three. Next time, she would know better. She’d not let the illusion of perfection, family resemblance notwithstanding, fool her. She’d find a way to achieve her goals. That mattered more than the heartache that might accompany it.

**Rule 4: Honesty is not just the best policy, it is the ONLY policy.**

Locating her quarry in the crowded pub was surprisingly easy. If his blonde hair wasn’t a beacon, the wide open space and dearth of people around him was. His reputation, while slowly improving, wasn’t what it once was. He no longer had an adoring throng. Of course, he seemed to like it that way. She worked her way in his direction, noting his position.  He sat with his back to the wall, no chairs adjacent, only one chair across from him. His expression as she took that seat was impassive, a real, quality poker face. Yes, this was the best decision she had made since dumping Ron.

“Granger.”

“Draco.”

At his lifted brow, she went on. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Really? And what would the high and mighty Hermione Granger want from me? Are you going to try and save the wizarding world by reforming pureblood ex-Death Eaters?” His tone was menacing, but Hermione was undeterred.

 

“Hardly. You have enough money that the Ministry will pardon you. And since I’ve never known you to care what others think, I’m going to ignore your blatant attempt to scare me off. What I’m proposing is a partnership. Combining my good name and your good fortune. THAT should help to save the wizarding world.”

“And just what do we get out of such an arrangement? Aside from the obvious pleasure of saving magical society.”

“You get a willing and available bed partner and I get the chance to make some changes at the Ministry.”

He really was attractive, she thought. Despite the pointy chin, which now had firewhiskey dribbling down it as he choked and wheezed, he really was a handsome man. He had finally grown into himself, courtesy of the tragic events that had occurred since he left Hogwarts. His eyes pinned her, and she could feel the beginnings of a Legilimens probe. She deliberately allowed her fantasies of him in bed to come to the forefront of her mind, and she noted with amusement that even when he flushed, he was cute. She had played her trump card, but she was relying on the accuracy of the gossip she overheard at the Ministry to give her an edge. For all his foreboding, his solitude was that of a pariah.

“How long do you expect this partnership to last? And just what do you mean by bed partner?”

 

“Trust you to get to the bottom line. One year. At the end of which we either renew the agreement, or we go our separate ways. And bed partner means exactly what you saw in my mind. Any other questions?”

 

“Yes. Why me?”

 

“Because it’ll piss everyone I know off, might potentially reform you,” he snorted at that, “and it will satisfy my curiosity. And yours, if your reaction is any indication. You need a sense of purpose and a way back to the life you lost, and I can give you that.”

She had laid all her cards out. Not it was up to him to decide to call her ‘bluff’ or not. She had everything to lose, but it was worth the risk, or so she hoped. Humiliation hadn’t sat well since her last relationship ended.

“All right, Granger. Let’s seal the deal.”

**Rule 5: You’ll get out of it the same effort you put into it. No more, no less.**

“Here?”

 

“Yes, here.”

“Now?”

“Yes now. Or have you lost the fabled Gryffindor courage? We can always forget this agreement…”

“I’ll show you Gryffindor courage.”

He backed her into the loo, hands scrabbling for the hem of her skirt and muttering a contraception spell. Once he had divested her of her knickers, he made short work of his own trousers and pants and thrust inside her. When he said ‘seal the deal’, she hadn’t thought that he meant anything quite like this, quite so soon. She held onto the pipe running overhead as he panted against her throat. He seemed oblivious to her presence.  He was so focused in on sensation that when she cast a spell of her own and experimentally tightened her unused muscles, he stiffened and the groan that worked its way out of his mouth was one of utter relief. He relaxed, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head in the crook of her neck.

“Been that long, Draco?”

He looked at her then, the satiated languor in his eyes disappearing behind the poker face yet again. “Long enough. We’ll have to work on the…specifics of the arrangement. After all, a deal is a deal.”

She let go of the pipe and placed her hands on his cheeks, feeling the invisible rasp of a 5 o’clock shadow. She kissed him on instinct, feeling the tension seep from him, and his interest in their positions renew. She ran one hand down his chest, feeling the wiriness that was stronger than it looked. As he expanded inside of her, she took his hand at her waist and whispered into his mouth, “Show me.” As their entwined fingers moved between the two of them, she knew her luck was looking up.

**Rule 6: Trust takes time. Give it time. Or else all you have is lust.**

She slammed into the house, her heels clicking on the marble foyer as she stormed down the hall to his library. He looked up from behind his desk, polite inquiry written on his face. She threw the newspaper at him. He smoothed the front page where it had been fisted in her rage and read aloud, “ ** _Malfoy Heir Cheats on Gryffindor Granger._** That kind of alliteration could only come from Rita Skeeter. She really could stand a new Quik-Quotes Quill.”

“Is it true?”

“What? This drivel? Really Granger, I’m surprised at you. Haven’t you learned anything in the past 7 months?”

She began to relax. “I know you have honored our agreement, but there are details in here of the more…intimate aspects. How would someone know about that?”

He grimaced. “I’m afraid I am to blame for that, if not these other indiscretions. Zabini and I had a few too many at some muggle club he dragged me to last week when you were away, and while I don’t remember the details, I must have said something about our arrangement.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “But I must say, I’m hurt at your lack of trust. “

She snorted. “More like you’re afraid you might have to go without your…compensation in our arrangement.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Really Granger, it isn’t as if you can resist me. If you aren’t yelling at me, you are assaulting me. You have some interesting ideas about what foreplay is.”

She plunked her hands on her hips and spoke in her snottiest voice, “Really Draco, you can’t complain about how these things get started, when you know you love how they end. Either way you get your end _ing_.” She perched on the edge of the desk, leaning over just far enough to give him a glimpse down her shirt. “Besides, if memory serves, you _love_ it when I get physical. You always have. Even back when we were in school, it turned you on. I noticed.”

The flush building on his face was partially from embarrassment, partially from the view. “That was a long time ago and we were different people then. You know I wouldn’t do anything deliberately to hurt you, Hermione.”

“I do,” she murmured. She leaned even more forward, nipping at his mouth, until he pulled her completely across and into his lap, where he began to unbutton her blouse. “Indeed, I do, Draco.”

**Rule 7: A promise is only good if it’s kept.**

She had to escape. She could feel the burn of tears, but she refused to indulge in them. She didn’t deserve to cry. She had burned her bridges, and the only thing she could do now was run. The sound of feet thudding on the grass behind her caused her to increase her speed. He was following her. She choked back a sob. This wasn’t how it was supposed to turn out. It was a year to the day since their arrangement went into affect. They’d been celebrating the passage of the new law protecting endangered and minority magical creatures, and it had been so lovely. She’d even coaxed Draco out onto the floor to waltz, the ballroom at Malfoy Manor in use for the first time in over 10 years. They’d made so many changes. To themselves, to their world, to each other. And then the bomb dropped.

_“You know, officially our agreement ends today. And if I recall correctly, you said we could renew it or go our separate ways.”_

_“Yes, well, now that the Mistreatment of Magical Beings Law has been passed, I wanted to take a crack at revising the magical education system. I figure in at least 2 years time-“_

_“Hermione.”_

_They stopped dancing, right in the middle of the floor. She could feel her legs start to shake._

_“But I thought you were happy with how things were.”_

_“We can’t continue like this. I-“_

_She interrupted. “It’s ok, Malfoy, I understand.” She tried to smile. “Your reputation has been repaired, and I made some inroads at the ministry. It is all we were hoping to accomplish. Anyway, it isn’t as though we are in love or something.” At the confused look on his face, she hastily said, “I mean, I make no presumptions as to your feelings in this matter. I… well, what I feel doesn’t matter.” She backed away from him slowly. “I don’t regret what we had. It was wonderful, and easy, and I couldn’t help falling in lo-“ She clapped her hands on her mouth, horrified at what she had just revealed. The look on Draco’s face was shock, mixed in with so many other emotions she had never seen before, she couldn’t stand it. She turned and walked out to the veranda, down the steps to the garden, and then cut through a patch of primroses, stumbling out of her shoes. At the feel of cool grass under her feet, she knew she couldn’t stay one more minute._

And now she ran. Suddenly her left foot twisted, pitching her forward. She lay there, taking deep drags of oxygen into her lungs. Breathe. Just breathe. She could handle doing that. She focused her eyes on a blade of grass an inch from her nose, and pushed the rest of the world out. Breathe.

It might have been hours that she lay there, watching the grass flutter under her exhalations. She didn’t know; she didn’t care. She became aware of his presence behind her and shut her eyes. It was childish, she knew, but if she pretended he wasn’t there, she wouldn’t have to acknowledge him. She sensed him crouch down at her back, but she just kept concentrating on her breathing. In. Out. When he smoothed her hair back so he could see her face, she jumped up and tried to keep going. Her ankle wouldn’t support her, and she collapsed back down, feeling his arms close around her as she landed square in his lap.

His right hand wrapped firmly around her waist, squeezed, and she finally opened her eyes and looked at him. He really was one of the most beautiful people she had ever known. And damn if he didn’t still have one of the most inscrutable poker faces she’d ever seen. Even after a year, she had no idea what was going on behind his eyes when he looked like that. She would usually say something blunt and sometimes brutal to shock him out of his defenses. Like now.

“I fell in love with you. I didn’t mean to. I know I broke the rules of the agreement. I know this isn’t how the game is supposed to be played. I know it’s absolutely crazy to feel this way, but I do. And I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked. The tears she had worked so hard to contain were leaking out of the corners of her eyes. His expression remained the same. She took a deep shuddering breath and closed her eyes. She had played the game and lost.

When she felt his arms under her knees and around her shoulders lifting her from her prone position, her eyes flew open. His face was still expressionless, but she could see the vein ticking in his temple. He didn’t speak, but instead carried her to the caretaker’s cottage that she had been running towards. He set her down on the couch and looked at her for a long moment. She could imagine the frightful figure she must make: grass stains on her robes, her hair poking out from its arrangement, makeup all but gone in the tears she couldn’t, even now, stop shedding. She wiped her nose with her sleeve, and it brought him out of his reverie.

“Right,” he said, and disapparated. She looked at where he had been moments before.  It really was over. She had mucked it well and truly up. The tears came in earnest now, for she had no reason to restrain them. She couldn’t help but think back to the long hours they had spent, teaching each other all different levels of enjoyment in his bedroom. And it was over. Just three little words had brought her world crashing down. All her hopes of a continued future, arrangement or no, dissolved. She let herself sink sideways into the upholstery and wept.

**Rule 8: Saying “I love you” means nothing. Prove it.**

She came to with a start, not even aware that she had dozed off. Something was different. She tried to stand, but her ankle still felt tender. She cursed her dress robes inwardly.  They had no comfortable place for her wand, so it was sitting in her room on the vanity. She wished, not for the first time, that non-Malfoy’s could apparate on their property. She could have been gone by now, to try and come to terms with her own idiocy. She heard a noise and looked across the room see the most astonishing thing she had ever observed in her entire life.

Draco Malfoy was fixing tea. Never before had he done anything so menial, a task normally relegated to his house elves. As she watched, he carefully removed the teabags from the pot and poured two cups, fixing one just the way she liked it, extra sweet with a hint of milk. He had decried her plebian tastes, but she adamantly continued to drink her tea as she always had. He placed the two cups and saucers on a tray loaded down with chocolate biscuits and a small vase containing a single flower. A tulip.

At her indrawn breath, Draco turned. His face was blank as ever, but she thought she could see a flicker of emotion. He crossed the room, muttering cleaning charms to vanish the dust from an end table, where he perched the tray. He then took a potion vial from the tray, handing it to her. She drank it, feeling like she’d fallen into another reality, where Draco was everything she’d ever hoped for.

He took the empty vial from her, and crouched in front of her, lifting her feet and gently feeling them for contusions. When she didn’t move in pain, he let them go and handed her the teacup. She drank it too, still staring at him. He wouldn’t make eye contact with her, but seemed to be staring into his teacup, looking for answers. When she set her teacup in the saucer, empty, he took it from her and set it back on the tray. He finally made eye contact with her, and something lurking behind his mental walls hypnotized her, making it impossible to look away.

He reached out and picked her up. He walked to the door and apparated back to his room at the manor, where he began to undress her. She opened her mouth to question him, but the look in his eyes silenced her. He was intent, unbuttoning here, unzipping here, sliding this off, unhooking that, until she was naked. He nudged her back onto the bed, and then proceeded to remove his own clothes.

He laid her back onto the bed being more careful and gentle than he had ever been before. She started to ask him why he was doing this, but he simply kissed her into silence. And that was the way it went. She would try to speak and he would silence her with a kiss, or with a deft stroke that made her eyes roll back into her head. When she had flown through no less than 3 orgasms, he withdrew, pulling the covers over them and holding her as her tears returned. He kissed them away as well, and she finally found her voice.

“What does this mean, Draco? What are you not telling me?”

“It’s what I am telling you, love. A very wise and beautiful witch once told me that actions speak louder than words. So when you said that you thought I didn’t love you, I had to show you.” His mental barriers were down for the first time, and she felt herself being sucked into his mind. She saw herself the way he did, as a determined virtuoso of passion who took him as he was. 

“So is that what that was about? You love me?” Dumbfounded didn’t even begin to describe her mental state.

“What I tell you three times is true. If a bit clichéd.” He pulled her closer and stroked her back.

“So why didn’t you at least join me one of those times?” She could still feel him, hard and ready against her hip.

“Because I wasn’t the one needing to be told. I already know you love me.” His smugness caused her to sit up and glare at him.

“And how exactly did you come to that conclusion?”

“Because you asked me into your life. Not a Weasley, not some other Gryffindor, but the one person who did his best to make you miserable. And you trusted me into your bed. Don’t think I don’t know I was your first.”

“What gave it away?”

“The little healing charm you cast when you thought I wasn’t listening. I have to admit, I was rather shocked. I thought you and Ron would have-”

“Don’t think we didn’t talk about it.”

“That is generally your problem, my dear. You talk too much.”

She lifted a brow at him. “Since it worked to your advantage, I can’t see that it was a bad thing.” She reached under the blanket and found him. “What was it you said? Actions speak louder than words? What I tell you three times is true?”

He groaned. “I don’t think I need to hear it but once from you my dear. It positively destroys me when you do that.”

“Well, since you don’t need to hear me say I love you…” She smirked and went to remove her hand, only to find herself pinned underneath him. His eyes were hot, and as he began to sink back into her, he said “None of that hard to get nonsense. We had an agreement.”

“So does that mean you want to renew it?” She pulled him down for a kiss.

An hour later, he lifted his head. “To hell with our agreement. The only contract you and I are going to have is a marriage.”

“Such a sweet talker. Does that mean I can insert a clause about how often and where?”

“I’ll be doing the only inserting around here.”

“Draco….”

“Yes?”

“Tell me again.”

 


End file.
